


Angels Always Lie

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Supernatural Collection [116]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Character Death, Fluff, M/M, Reader-Insert, Sad Dean Winchester, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 04:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Secrets always have a habit of coming out, which you find out first hand.





	Angels Always Lie

“Shut the fuck up!”

You shoved Dean, a smile on your face as you both walked out of the bar, towards Baby.

“Come on, y/n. You know it’s totally true”.

“No. It really isn’t”, you assured him, waiting for him to unlock the doors before you climbed into the passenger seat.

“So you’re telling me, if you had the chance, you wouldn’t let that bartender get on her knees for you?”

You turned to Dean, shaking your head in disgust.

“You are literally vile, Dean. Not everything is about sex, y’know? Besides-GAY!”

Dean chuckled, starting the car and beginning to drive back to the bunker.

“You know, I get you’re gay. But wouldn’t you just switch off your gay for just one night? For that chick?”

By now, his questions were getting tiring and boring to listen to.

“First of all, she was cute at best. I know you have your usual _‘bimbo stupid airhead bitch’_ type, but apart from the giant plastic tits, she really wasn’t all that attractive. Secondly and most importantly, I can’t ‘switch off’ my gay. It’s like me asking if you can switch off your obsession with Sam. Or your constant longing for a woman who willingly sacrificed herself. Or moping about wanting some shitty ‘apple pie’ life, all day, every day”, you snapped.

The car fell into an uncomfortable silence, the ticking of Dean’s watch making everything so much worse.

As soon as you got back to the bunker, you jumped out of the car, not wanting to be anywhere near Dean right now.

Sure, you felt bad about what you said. 

But in your opinion, he was the one being an insensitive asshole in the first place.

“So, how did it go?”

Dean looked up, glaring at Sam as he walked to the fridge to get a beer.

“I’m guessing it didn’t?”

“Of course it fucking didn’t. If it did, do you think I’d be in here drinking a beer, when I could be having fun?”

Sam sighed, already knowing whatever happened was most likely Dean’s own fault.

“What did you do?”

Dean took another gulp of his beer, before slamming it down, pissed at himself.

“I chickened out. Brought up some random waitress so I didn’t have to ask him. And then I basically told him that being gay was something you could switch on and off”, Dean groaned, already knowing that was the dumbest thing he could’ve said, even if it was meant to be a joke.

“You did not! Dean! What the hell would you say that for? You know how pissed y/n gets when people comment on him being gay”.

“I know that! You think I didn’t regret it as soon as it came outta my mouth? I said the wrong thing. Again. And now he’s pissed at me. Again!”

Sam could see how frustrated Dean was, his own anger slipping and being replaced with sympathy.

“Listen, just apologize tomorrow. You know he likes those chocolates. So go buy him some of those. Apologize. And then just tell him that you were making dumb jokes to distract yourself from admitting you’re in love with him”.

“What? I-I’m not in love with him!”

Sam rolled his eyes, not even wanting to get into this argument with Dean again, sick of having to listen to his brother mope about his feelings for y/n, then immediately denying what was blatantly obvious.

“Whatever. I’m going to bed. Sort it out. And stop being such an idiot”.

Sam left Dean alone in the kitchen, wishing he could just come out and admit his feelings.

“Maybe tomorrow”.

Tomorrow came and passed, Dean not having said a word to you.

He knew you were still pissed and he needed to apologize, but he also knew he needed to finally admit that he was practically in love with you.

But each time he saw you standing there, he chickened out, going to the opposite side of the bunker just so he wouldn’t have to reveal his feelings.

You began thinking Dean was uncomfortable with you.

His comments on you being gay. 

The way he avoided you at all costs, barely even looking at you anymore.

You knew there was always this chance.

Kansas. White male. Hunter.

All of it screamed homophobe to you. But you always thought the Winchesters were a little more accepting.

But it seemed as though they weren’t. And while you would miss the bunker, there was no way in hell you’d be sticking around homophobic morons.

No matter who they were or how much you were secretly in love with a certain green eyed beauty, you had no intentions to suffer a life living with people who hated your very existence.

“Hey, y/n! Found a hunt! Get ready!”

You groaned, having planned to most likely leave tonight, but knowing you couldn’t just leave them to hunt alone right now.

You decided after this hunt, you were gone.

They didn’t need you.

They already had Castiel. 

You were just there to make sure nothing would happen to them when Cas wasn’t around.

But after Dean’s attitude towards you, you knew you’d outstayed your welcome.

“So, what’re we hunting this time?”

“Rogue angel. Killed dozens of angels around the country. Cas tracked him down. We just need to go meet up with him and take care of it”.

You swallowed, your stomach churning in fear.

You hated any cases dealing with angels.

They were what you tended to avoid, often leaving the brothers for ‘another case’ and waiting until they got back.

But this time, you were already on your way.

There was no way you could just try to make an excuse to get out of it.

So you stared out of the window, hoping against everything that you’d be able to avoid the angel.

You couldn’t have him see you at all.

“Y/n?”

Your jaw clenched as you hid behind the pillar, hoping he hadn’t seen your face properly.

But of course, with your luck, he had.

“Come on out, y/n! You think I wouldn’t be able to recognize you?”

You sighed, stepping out slowly as the angel stared at you.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He shrugged, walking around the dozens of burnt out angel bodies.

“Well, ever since our dear brother Castiel got the rest of the angels thrown out of heaven, they just won’t leave me alone. They’re hunting me. All I’m doing is defending myself.”

“They are our brothers and sisters!”

The angel you knew as Frederick chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you kill your entire garrison? Y/n, the angel who fled. The angel who murdered the ones he had under his command”.

“They were driven mad! I did what I had to protect humanity. Like our father would’ve wanted”.

A scoff left his mouth, glaring at you.

“Our beloved father abandoned us long ago. He does not care for us. So why should I care for his creations?”

“Because these people have done nothing to you. These angels are innocent!”

The amusement grew on Frederick’s face, eyes darting behind you, before he began talking again.

“How has Castiel not recognized you yet? Surely he’d know of the most hated angel to have ever existed. Or was that Gadreel? I get you both mixed up a lot”.

You watched him turn around, walking further away from you as he kept talking.

“I wonder what’d happen if those Winchester boys found out their best friend has been an angel the entire time. I wonder what our dear Castiel would say if he found out you were a murderer, just like I am”.

Before you could do anything, he disappeared, leaving you in a room full of the corpses of your brothers and sisters.

“You are an angel?”

You jumped, turning quickly to see Castiel staring at you, confusion and anger in his eyes.

“C-Castiel-”

“You are y/n? The angel who fled heaven? Who murdered hundreds of angels?”

You tried to explain the situation, but it seemed all Cas heard was your name, advancing with a disgusted look, his angel blade shining in his hand.

“Look, Cas. Just stop”, you pleaded, holding your hands up so you wouldn’t have to hurt him, hoping to show him that you weren’t a threat.

“Whoa whoa! Cas!”

Dean ran forward, stopping Cas and getting between the two of you.

“What the hell are you doing? That’s y/n!”

“He’s not who you think he is”.

Sam watched, noticing the fear on your face.

“Y/n? What the hell is he talking about?”

You looked between all three of them, knowing they expected an answer.

Your eyes found Cas’, pleading with him not to make you tell them.

But you knew there was nothing you could do now.

Your secret was about to come out and you had no idea what would happen.

The car ride was silent for the first hour or so, Cas sitting right against the door, jaw clenched.

You could feel the animosity coming off him, knowing he was probably having to keep himself from stabbing an angel blade through your throat.

Sam kept his eyes forward, memories of Gadreel coming back.

Cas explained what had happened, telling them you were basically another Gadreel.

An angel who was hated and despised. 

Except you ran instead of being locked away. 

You were notorious for what you did and Sam just couldn’t help but wonder if you were here to help them or not.

But Dean? 

Dean kept glancing at you from the mirror, anger coursing through his veins.

How the hell had he fallen in love with an angel? 

How the hell did he not notice?

“Were you ever going to tell us?”

The sudden break in silence just built the tension in the car, suffocating you.

“I-I…no”.

Dean shook his head, a bitter laugh coming from him.

“What a fucking surprise. Each time we run into one of you dickbags, it’s always lying and scheming. What were you expecting to do? Use our blood to rise and take control of heaven? Kill Cas? What the hell did you want?”

“It wasn’t like that”, you mumbled.

“Well, what the hell was it like, y/n? Cos the way I see it, you’ve been lying to us for months now. You’ve been keeping shit hidden from us and god knows what else”.

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath in to keep from blowing up on Dean right now.

“How many times have you been hurt since I’ve arrived?”

“What?”

“Just answer the damn question. How many times?”

Sam and Dean looked to each other, before Sam answered.

“Uhh-none”.

“Right. And how many time has Cas healed you, compared to…say, before you knew me?”

“None”, Sam sighed, understating what you were getting at.

“Right. So ever since we’ve met, I’ve kept you safe. I’ve kept monsters and demons and all that shit from hurting either of you. Better than Cas has in the past years you’ve known him. I’ve never once let you come close to the brink of death. And I’ve certainly never allowed anything to come close to hurting you, because I know how to keep you safe”.

Sam nodded, knowing you were totally right.

He had a feeling you meant no harm.

But the fact that you’d lied was something he just couldn’t forget.

Neither could Dean, unfortunately for you.

“So you kept us safe? Well, what about the fact that you lied? That you didn’t even let us know you were an angel? How the hell are we meant to trust you anymore?”

You groaned, knowing Dean wasn’t going to let this go, or understand where you were coming from.

All he was hearing was that you lied. 

He wasn’t understanding that you kept it hidden because you knew Cas would know of you. 

He just wouldn’t accept that you kept them safe and all you wanted was to protect them.

“Whatever, Dean. Whatever”.

He shot you a look, but you turned to stare out of the window, knowing it was all ruined now.

Cas hated you. 

Sam didn’t trust you. 

And the man you’d stupidly fallen for was most likely a homophobic asshole, and was now also disgusted by you being an angel.

Fucking awesome.

“You think we should trust him?”

“How the hell are we supposed to trust him again? He lied to us. Kept the fact that he’s not only an angel, but an angel who ran from heaven because he murdered hundreds of others, from us. And he doesn’t even think he did anything wrong. There’s no way we can trust him”.

Sam sighed, knowing he wasn’t about to change Dean’s mind anytime soon.

He had a hard enough time trusting people as it was. 

Angels were worse.

But Sam knew that deep down, Dean wasn’t angry purely because you lied to him.

It was because he fell for you and he never knew.

“So, what the hell do we do now?”

Dean didn’t bother answering, instead grabbing the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a glass.

It burned as it went down his throat. But anything was better than focusing on you and what you’d done.

Sam left his brother alone in the library, letting him stew in his anger and disappointment, in both you and himself for snapping at you like he did.

It’d been almost a week since you left.

No note. 

No goodbye.

You packed up and left the night when everything came out.

None of them trusted you and you knew they never would again. 

And trust was the foundation of a good hunting team. 

If that wasn’t there, it wouldn’t work.

So you left.

You just hoped that Cas would be able to protect them better than he’d done previously, and they wouldn’t have to go through unnecessary pain and hurt.

But you didn’t have too much time to wallow in your own self-pity, instead focussing on finding Frederick and taking care of him.

You’d narrowed his location down to a single town, knowing it was best to probably check for any abandoned buildings.

Sure enough, you found a warehouse.

Typical angels and demons.

You had no idea why the creatures of this world were always so predictable.

But it did make your job easier, so you weren’t complaining too much.

You walked in quietly, the warehouse only illuminated by the dim light of the moon.

It was difficult to see, but you managed to navigate your way around, the sounds of screaming and begging helping you locate him.

You turned the corner, a light shining into the dark corridor.

You peeked in, at least five angels dead on the floor, a sixth tied in a chair.

Yet, Frederick was nowhere to be seen.

You looked around, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Hey! Hey!”

The angel turned to look at you, face bloody and bruised.

“Run!”

Before you managed to move a muscle, you felt something pierce your abdomen from behind, the cold metal stinging as it went through you and came out of your stomach.

You looked down, the shiny surface of the blade reflecting the grace that was burning up in your body.

“Shouldn’t have come after me”, he whispered into your ears, before your grace burnt away at you, your lifeless body falling to the floor with a thud.

“You sure he’s in here?”

“Yes, Dean. I heard them screaming for help. We need to stop him”.

Dean nodded, pulling the car up and going straight to the trunk.

“We’ll stop him. Don’t worry, Cas”.

They made sure they had all their weapons, before they made their way into the warehouse.

There was an eerie silence, an atmosphere of dread blanketing down on them.

Dean had a feeling in his stomach. 

One he wished would go away.

One that only arrived when the worst would happen.

Making their way through the warehouse, they found the large open space, a fire burning in the middle with bodies thrown onto it, the stench of burning corpses filling the room.

“Ah, finally joined us? I’ve been waiting for days now. I always heard you Winchester boys were good hunters, but, just a bit slow. Guess the rumours were right”.

Cas stepped forward, angel blade slipping out and into his hand.

“This ends now”.

The angel held his hand up.

“Whoa whoa. No need to fight. You can kill me”.

Dean frowned, looking at the angel with distrust.

“So, you’re telling us we can just kill you and you won’t try anything?”

“Yep. You see, I’ve been on this planet for a few months now. And as fun as it is, watching the light leave an angel’s eyes, it gets boring after a while. Besides, I killed one of the most infamous angels there were. So, I’m pretty sure it won’t get better than that”.

Dean began advancing, but then the words clicked in his head.

“Most infamous angel? What the hell does that mean?”

Frederick smirked at him.

“Oh, come on, Dean. You already know the answer to that, don’t you? Come on. Tell me what you know and I’ll tell you if you’re right”.

Dean opened his mouth, but his body refused to say the words he was thinking.

He refused to believe them, even if he knew deep down what had happened.

“Come on, Dean. You can do it”, the angel sang, a sick grin on his face.

“What the hell did you do?”

Sam charged forward, pushing the angel back until his back hit a wall, holding him in place with an arm on his throat.

“Oh, come on, Sam. You’re meant to be the smart one, right? Think about it. I kill angels. I’ve just killed a notorious angel. Who did we just find out was a murderous angel who fled from heaven and was hated just as much as my old pal, Gadreel? Pieces. Put the pieces together, Samuel”.

Sam’s heart dropped at the realization, looking to the pile of burning bodies, praying that you weren’t among them.

“Six. Six bodies. None of those are y/n, you lying piece of shit!” Dean roared, lunging towards him, the tip of the angel blade right above the angel’s heart.

“That’s because I wanted to give you the honour of having to burn him. Look behind that little crate, Castiel. I’m sure you’ll find a nice present there”.

Castiel looked at the brothers, both of them nodding as he reluctantly went over.

He moved around the crate, a pair of feet wearing your sneakers coming into view.

He then saw those black jeans you always wore, the t-shirt, the hoodie, and then your blank face, eyes wide open, feathers burnt into the ground around you.

“Cas! Talk to us!”

Cas opened his mouth, but had no idea what to say.

“I-it’s him, Dean”.

Dean felt his heart break, not hesitating to plunge the angel blade right through his heart, before he ran over to where Cas was stood, frozen as they both stared at your lifeless vessel.

Dean fell to his knees, unable to do anything but stare, knowing you were gone.

He didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. 

To apologize for what he said.

He hadn’t even told you how he felt.

He’d lost you.

He’d lost you before he was able to have you.

You awoke in an unfamiliar place, dust and mildew hitting your nose.

You winced at the stench, sitting up on the dust covered bed and looking around.

The place was unfamiliar.

A room. 

Small. 

Filled with dirty clothes and papers everywhere.

You decided to look around, hopefully find whoever it was that brought you here.

Last thing you remembered was being stabbed by the angel.

“Is this angel heaven?” you asked yourself, confused, seeing as you were sure angels didn’t go anywhere after they died.

They just stopped existing.

Unless you were all wrong and God had created somewhere for you to go.

But you couldn’t help wonder why your heaven would’ve been a dusty, run down house, that you were sure you’d never stepped foot in before.

You made your way through the top floor, checking out each and every room, constantly on guard in case something was in here with you.

Once you’d cleared the upstairs, you made your way down, the house packed and filled with books and papers, bottles of alcohol thrown onto the floor.

And in the middle, a desk, with a figure sitting there.

“H-hello?”

The desk lamp switched on as the man turned, a smile on his face.

“Hey there”.

You were taken aback by his sweet tone, expecting him to have attacked you, not greeted you.

“Uh…where are we?”

“My house”.

You waited for him to explain more, but he simply stared at you, his smile never falling.

“Ok. You wanna tell me where this house is?”

“Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is you’re alive. Your grace is intact. And Dean is currently sobbing in your bedroom. So-you might wanna go see him”.

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead just looked at him suspiciously.

“So, you’re telling me an angel murdered me. And I died. Yet, I’m alive again? How is that possible?”

The man smirked, chuckling lightly, before he stood.

“I always did like you, y/n. You were different to the others. You’re more like Castiel. You care about things. Things most angels don’t give a second thought to”.

He poured himself a drink, taking a sip as he leaned against the desk.

“I’m sorry for leaving you. For letting the angels chase you out of heaven. I know what happened with the other angels. And I know you did what was best”.

You listened to his words, confused, before your brain caught up, understanding what he was implying.

“Father?”

He nodded, an awkward smile on his face as he put the glass down, opening his arms up.

“Gonna give me a hug?”

You scoffed, turning and walking away from him.

“Sorry, dad. But an apology and a resurrection doesn’t make up for you abandoning all of us. It doesn’t make up for you leaving and letting Michael practically dictate heaven. And it sure as hell doesn’t make up for you letting the other angels think I was a murderer, when you knew damn well what really happened”.

You turned the doorknob, opening the door and stepping out, before looking back at the small bearded man that was God.

“Thanks for bringing me back. But don’t expect me to fall to my knees and worship you again”.

With that, you walked out the door and shut it behind you, before you set off.

It’d been almost three days since you began your journey back to the bunker.

A few truckers took you between the states, before they had to let you off, deviating from your route.

Then came the walking.

No cars seemed to pass, so you walked and walked, knowing exactly where you were headed.

Lebanon, Kansas.

You knew you could’ve reached the bunker by night, but your legs were aching despite your angel grace. And you needed food and water.

So you stopped by at a motel, checking in and showering, before quickly running to the diner across the road.

Once you ate your food like a starved man, you sat there, letting your stomach feel full, before you paid and went back to the motel.

You stared up at the blank ceiling of the room as you tried and failed to fall asleep, wondering if it was wise to even go back.

Dean hated you. 

He hated that you were an angel. 

And you were pretty sure he hated the fact that you were gay. Or was at least uncomfortable.

Sam wasn’t going to trust you anymore. 

And Cas detested you.

You knew there was no real point in going back, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

At least you could get the rest of your stuff once you were there.

You shut your eyes, not getting much sleep as you heard the drunken moans from both rooms beside yours.

By the time the sun had risen, you’d gotten a single hour of sleep, before you decided you’d get going right then, and not wasting another single second in town.

You were glad God had resurrected you with all of your stuff still in your pockets.

You unlocked the door to the bunker, walking in slowly to hear absolutely nothing.

You peered over the balcony, not seeing anyone around.

“Dean? Sam?”

There was no response as you walked down and into the war room.

“Anyone here?”

Once again, there was no response.

You shrugged, assuming they were probably on a hunt, which would make it so much easier for you to leave without their judging eyes on you.

You made your way through the bunker, eventually getting to the bedrooms.

You passed Dean and Sam’s bedrooms, coming to the end of the corridor and standing in front of yours.

You sighed, knowing it’d be the last time you’d be in here.

Gripping the doorknob, you turned it and pushed the door open, stepping into your room.

As soon as you did, a stench of alcohol hit you, making you gag.

Your hand came up to your nose, pinching it as you trekked through your room, trying to find your way to the lamp, bottles hitting your feet as you waded through them.

You found the desk, mapping it out with your hands as you moved around, until your hand gripped the lamp, switching it on.

The light illuminated your room, only to reveal a body lying on your bed, bottles all over the place, and plates of food rotting away on the desk.

“What the hell?”

You pulled the covers back slightly to reveal Dean’s face, unshaven and stained with tears, his eyes puffy as he mumbled in his sleep.

“Dean?”

You shook his body lightly, your eyes watering as his smell reached you.

You could tell he hadn’t washed in a few days.

“God, Dean. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You pushed his body further into the bed, not wanting him to fall and smash his face onto the floor.

Once he stopped stirring, you quickly grabbed your duffel and began shoving all your clothes into it.

You were glad you didn’t have too many items to take with you.

Just some clothes, a few photos, and the weapons you’d left behind.

“Shit!”

You had no idea where they’d be.

Maybe Dean would’ve left them in the car after you died. 

Or did they just shove them into a corner of the bunker.

You groaned, knowing it’d take you forever to look through everything and find the bag.

Or, you could just ask Dean.

You didn’t want to, but you had to leave as soon as possible.

“Goddamit!”

You began shaking Dean lightly, calling his name, but he didn’t wake up.

“Dean!” you hissed, shaking him a little harder and harder, until you were basically pulling him off the bed.

“What the fuck!”

Dean’s voice was laced with frustration and sleep, but you didn’t care right now.

“Dean. My weapons. Where are they?” you whispered, not wanting to wake him too much and just get what you needed and leave.

“Wh-what the hell?”

Dean jumped up, an angel blade in his hand as he pointed it at you.

“Who the fuck are you?”

You held your hands up, backing away a few steps, before you began trying to calm him down.

“Whoa! It’s me. Y/n”, you assured him.

He glared at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“No. Y/n’s dead”.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Dean. I think we know by now not everyone stays dead. I was brought back to life. Now, just tell me where the bag is and I’ll leave you alone”.

“Y-y/n?” he asked, his voice cracking as his hands shook lightly.

You looked into his eyes, unsure what was happening.

“Uh-yea?”

“Fuck! It’s really you!”

He jumped up from the bed, his arms wrapping around your waist, clutching you tight as he began sobbing lightly.

You stiffened in his arms, not used to any of this type of affection from Dean.

You felt Dean begin to sob, his lips constantly meeting your neck as he kissed you softly, his arms tight around you as he inhaled your scent.

“Fuck! I thought I lost you. Don’t you ever do that again! I need you with me, y/n. I can’t lose you. I love you too much. Please don’t leave me again”.

Your mind screamed as you heard his words.

You barely heard Dean rambling about how sorry he was for what he said, that he should’ve known to trust you and not made you feel like you had to leave.

You were more focused on what he’d just said.

Dean loved you. 

Dean Winchester loved you.

He actually loved you.

You realized in that moment, the uneaten food, the alcohol, the fact that he hadn’t showered.

It was all for you. 

He was mourning you.

Dean Winchester was mourning you, because he loved you.

You thought he hated you.

You thought he wouldn’t accept the fact that you were gay and an angel.

Yet, he actually loved you.

Your hands came up slowly, wrapping around him, fingers running through his hair softly, his sobs getting heavier and heavier.

You led him to the bed, lying with him as he buried his face in your neck, sobbing about how happy he was to have you back.

You knew you’d have to talk about everything that happened. 

You knew it’d take a while to fully rebuild the trust that you’d broken.

But that could come later.

Right now, all you would do was make sure Dean knew you were with him.

“I promise, I’ll never leave you again”.

You’d make sure that was a promise you’d keep. 


End file.
